Chapter 1

The house was spacious, the floors thick Italian marble. Lisa looked over her shoulder, the handsome businessman from New York watching her every move. How men in their late thirties racked up billions of dollars was beyond her, but his means of making money wasn't the concern. She wanted him to spend it.

"As you see, everything is custom designed. It's a one of a kind." She turned and pressed her back to the counter, her white button-down shirt open at the top, just enough to show the curve of her breast if she turned the right way. The black pencil skirt fit like a glove, the red heels screaming of the dominance that pulsed through her veins.

"I can see that. Magnificent." He stopped in front of her, his voice low, his eyes hooded. Dark hair barely touching his shoulders looked too soft not to touch, his eyes blue like the ocean. She reached up and moved a lock of it from his forehead before he caught her wrist. "The house is nice too."

"I assume that means you're interested."

"You assume right."

She smiled seductively, moving away from him, her hip brushing the front of his black slacks as she walked into the living room.

"You'll see that most of the rooms are open air and the windows will run the length of the walls in most of the living spaces." She walked toward the back wall of the living room, pressing her front to it. She looked over toward him and slid her finger back and forth along the creamy white pearls that adored her neck. "When a storm rolls through there is nothing more beautiful than watching nature in all its majesty."

"I can see how you'd be drawn to it. Most women fantasize about making love in a storm."

"Making love? I'd much prefer fucking." She licked her lips and looked out the window.

He took the last few steps between them, stopping behind her as she ignored him. The scene beyond the glass was picturesque. Her own house was just across the beautiful bay that spanned out before her, her friends probably already drinking a glass of wine while fixing dinner. She needed to hurry home, but this sell was imperative.

He slid his hands along her waist, moving up to press himself to her back. She pressed back against him, moving her hips slightly to play with his erection.

"Do you have someone to go home to, beautiful?"

"Not at this moment." She glanced over her shoulder, the handsome billionaire slipping his hand into her hair and lifting her face to his. She turned with his efforts, closing her eyes just before his lips pressed to hers. The burn of desire washed over her, the smell of his cologne reminding her of Marc. She slid her arms around his neck before realization pulled her from the moment.

He groaned into her mouth, his hands moving to cup her butt as he tucked her against him. She responded with a soft sound of appreciation for his aggression. Lust was beautiful and powerful, sustaining every need until you met the one...

Marc.

"Spend the night with me." He moved back, his eyes moving across her face, expecting a positive response. She wanted to. She needed to. Every time she had been close to giving herself to someone since Kari's brother Marc left, it fell flat. She couldn't go through with it. She needed to get over it. Marc and her hadn't even slept together. It was safer that way.

"Not the night, but the next few hours. I have guests coming over this evening."

"Are you a married woman, Ms. Parks?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" She smirked and pulled from him, walking toward the bedroom. She paused just inside of it, bending over and slipping her feet from the two-inch heels that made her feel far too sexy for her line of work. Showing bedrooms to men for a living was sure to keep her unmarried and a complete nymph.

She turned as he walked in, the soft growl on his tongue lighting a spark in her stomach. He wasn't Marc, but none of them were. Time to move on. She held up her hand to stop him for a minute.

"First things first... You're buying the house?"

"You live close?"

"I do."

"I'm buying the house."

"Good." She walked toward the bed, stopping to pull the paperwork from her briefcase. "Sign in these three places, and I'll not talk business again. Promise."

He smiled and pulled a pen from the inside of his jacket pocket. His clothes screamed money, his body sex. She took a tentative step back as he turned and pressed the paper to the wall. Something buzzed inside of her head, a warning bell that sleeping with him might not be the best of choices.

She ignored it, grumbling at the thought of Jake and Kari being together. She was more than glad her friend found someone as great as Jake, but half the reason she had rented the house from him was because she could easily see the two of them naked and sweaty. Those thoughts were long gone, Jake too much like a brother and Kari far too important to her.

"What are you thinking about, sexy?" He turned and let the papers drop to the ground as he worked on his tie.

"How much I'm going to enjoy ruining you for all other women."

He laughed, the sound rich and thick. She liked him and could do this. She tugged on her pearls, the clasp made to give way at the slightest tug. They pulled from her neck and dropped from her fingers, and he took the few steps remaining between them and leaned down to kiss her.

She lifted up on her toes, pressing her lips to his as she swatted his hands away from his shirt, taking the task on herself. She worked quickly, his jacket pushed from his shoulders, his shirt soon to follow.

"God you smell good," he whispered against her mouth, reaching out and pulling her flush against him. He pressed his tongue into her mouth, Lisa taking the time to softly suck at it as she worked his pants open, her fingers sliding into stroke him once. He groaned as she released his tongue, moving from him and walking toward the bed.

"Come here." She undid her skirt and slipped out of it. Her black hose were held up by garters, her panties small and barely covering any of her. She looked over her shoulder as she unbuttoned her shirt and threw it to the other side of the room.

"Fuck..." He moved toward her, leaning over to pull his shoes and socks off after his slacks bunched up in his path. He tugged his underwear over his large erection and stroked himself once before reaching her. She left her back to him, her heart pounding in her chest.

Lisa hadn't been with a man in far too long. She had almost made it there, almost let them take her to a familiar place and then...

"No," she whispered to herself, sliding her arms across the bed and lifting her ass in the air. This one would be a go. She would just pretend it was Marc.

"No," she grumbled louder.

"No what, baby?" The handsome man behind her pressed his lips to the back of her thigh as he knelt below her. His fingers slipped inside her panties, rubbing the soft skin of her center as she groaned.

"No, don't stop." She pressed her face to the mattress, fighting the sensation that it wasn't right to sleep with someone else and desire another. Bastard mother fucker. She growled against the bed, knowing nothing would come of it with Marc. He was back in New York and several years younger than her. He was in college, and she was a grown ass woman.

Her panties were being pulled off slowly, the stranger’s fingers slipping inside of her. She bent her knees slightly and pressed against his offering; her body was more than aware of how to handle such pleasure.

"Yeah, pretty girl. Let's take care of that wet little slit." He stood and pressed himself to her. Lisa pushed her hands against the bed, gripping the sheet as she groaned, his body filling hers. They were too far to go back. It was too good to want to. He sighed deep in his throat and began thrusting, the sound and smell perfect.

"So good," she whispered, losing herself in his movements. He knew what he was doing, his experience pulling her from her worries over what was right and what wasn't. Marc and her were nothing, nor would they ever be.

An image of the sexy rebel rushed across her vision, the visual heightening the sex. She moaned loudly and pressed backward, rolling her hips to give way for more pressure, more pleasure. The handsome billionaire became Marc in her head, her body giving way for something so far beyond right that she treasured it.

Tucking her head between her clasped hands, she worked against him, taking pleasure from every movement. The sound of his deep grunts washed over her, the image of Marc stripped naked and taking her in so many ways flooding her senses. She groaned as she lifted quickly, her body exploding from the center out as she screamed.

"Marc, oh fuck baby. Harder."

Hands slid around to cup her breasts, squeezing softly before kneading them. She placed her hands over his, thrusting wildly into her as his teeth sank into her shoulder. Bowing her head she gave him access to her, to all of her. Whatever he wanted, she would bow down below him and offer herself. No man before. No man after.

He rocked against her, his breathing so heavy. So hot. He groaned loudly, his body stiffening as he gave himself to her. She rocked back against him, her visual locked in place, her desire skyrocketing for the man she wanted more than her next breath.

Why had she denied herself when he was close? Why hadn't she forced them to explore what they could be? The thrusting stopped, the hands holding her sliding away. She leaned over and pressed her arms to the bed, reality ushering in coldness and shame.

"Damn, that was fantastic." His voice was thick, shattering the last bit of the fantasy.

Lisa steeled herself, standing up and turning, a wicked smile on her lips. "Good. The house is yours, and you have my number. Don't be a stranger."

She walked to pick up her clothes, the good looking man popping her naked butt as she took her things and slipped into a small bathroom in the hall. She refused to look at herself in the mirror, knowing the minute she did, she would break down.

When had all of this fallen apart? Sex was her favorite pastime, her go-to workout, her most comforting activity. So what if she had more testosterone than a fifteen-year-old boy. She was in charge of herself and only had to answer to one person.

"Me." She glanced at the mirror, tugging at her hair and fixing her pearls. Lisa finished dressing quickly and walked out with her head held high. She wasn't ashamed of fucking a stranger or doing it for a quick sale on the house. She was mortified that she needed Marc in the middle of the activity to feel anything.

"Bastard," she grumbled and walked from the house, her signed contract in her bag and a bone to pick with the man that crept into her heart and never once touched her panties. "Complete bastard."